


Are You Finishing That Or...?

by crowdedangels



Series: Scenes from a Prompt [8]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 21:30:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14881562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowdedangels/pseuds/crowdedangels
Summary: She lingered on a photograph on the wall – an SG1 team shot from the early days. God they looked young. It was kind of a kick in the teeth considering how old she felt right now.





	Are You Finishing That Or...?

**Author's Note:**

> Offering for the Five Word Prompt Ficathon on Tumblr

She couldn’t remember aching like this before. Not when she had the dodgy crash landing in the Gulf, any of the Goa'uld battles nor, again, the dodgy crash landings in Alkesh or ships.

Ageing sucked.

She dunked herself back under the water line of her ice bath and tried to relax, though every muscle was tensed. Her mind plagued her with replays of the latest mission and what she should have done better, how she wouldn’t have taken the brunt of the impact. She was going to have some interesting bruises, that was for sure.

She blew out a bubble and opened her eyes to what she could see of Jack’s bathroom, the water providing a shimmering filter to everything.

Soon bored, she wrapped herself in the large towel he’d put over the heater for her and dried quickly. In the bedroom, she found an old Cubs sweater and sweatpants also over the heater; they were cosy and warm and way too big for her, needing to roll the arms, legs and waistband.

“Better?” he asked, when she passed barefoot into his kitchen.

She wrapped her arms around his waist as he rested his chin on her slicked-back cold and wet hair. “I am now.”

He smiled, holding her tight and placing a kiss in her hair, “Go sit down, I’ll bring you some food.”

Though it wasn’t his home in the Springs or the cabin, the small DC apartment was cosy and personalised just enough to make it feel like him. She lingered on a photograph on the wall – an SG1 team shot from the early days. God they looked young. It was kind of a kick in the teeth considering how old she felt right now.

“Here,” he appeared behind her with a steaming bowl of pasta and a glass of wine.

Her stomach growled at the scent, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since the ship, before the infirmary visit and getting beamed to DC.

They settled on the couch, Sam against the arm with her legs over Jack’s, while he rested his bowl on her thighs.

They had gotten used to this; the silences, the comfort, the novelty of having another there.

“Are you finishing that or…?”

“Sorry, the pain killers the doc prescribed are making me feel a little nauseous.”

He nodded, having had his fair share of those pills over the years. He took her bowl and poured his wine into her glass; not recommended with the pills but it would definitely make her sleep which seemed like a fine outcome.

She shuffled closer to his side and manoeuvred until her back stopped protesting. “Better now.”


End file.
